I Only Learn the Hard Way
by Gannent
Summary: One shot, Jetko, AU. Set during the Vietnam War. Jet's always had strong convictions about the war. But when Zuko's ideals clash with his, he feels betrayed. Is Zuko the traitor, or is Jet the one who has let his friend down?


**A/N: **My first excursion into Jetko! A one shot AU, in Jet's POV. He narrates the beginning and the end. Basically, it's him reliving his past. I'm not a fan of the typical Avatar high school AUs, but this is a lot different. Set in the early 1970s during the Vietnam War. This isn't supposed to be political, so I hope it doesn't come off that way. And I thought of this story while on major drugs from getting my wisdom teeth out, so it might not make any sense.

_I used to be a different man._

_I hated war. I was the leader of the anti-Vietnam protest group in my city. I was a spokesman for the kids who had heard enough of the lies that the government was spewing. I was going to make a change, to wake up the people._

_I thought I knew everything._

_I didn't know shit._

"Jet!" Zuko bursts into the apartment. I can tell immediately by his expression that something is wrong.

"What is it?" He's shaking. I pull him close. "Shh, calm down. It's gonna be okay."

Zuko backs away, clutching a piece of paper in his hands. "It's not. Nothing's going to be okay again."

"What are you talking about?"

The look in his eye is desperate. "I've been drafted."

"Shit."

He collapses on the chair. "I know! I'm so scared- I can't fight, I'm just a kid!"

"Don't worry, Zuko, we'll get you out of this. We'll move to Canada, hell, I've always wanted to go there. Cold, maybe, but who cares?"

"Jet-"

I have to think of something, anything. There's no way he can fight in this unfair, imperialistic war. "Maybe you could fake some sort of injury? Pretend your eyesight sucks?"

"Jet-"

"I mean, there's got to be some way…"

"Jet!" He shouts. "Sorry. Jet… I- I'm not getting out of it, not like that."

I wrinkle my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"My country needs me, Jet, and although I might not completely agree with it, I can't run away. I have to do my duty."

"You're serious." I clench my fists.

"Yeah. I'm not thrilled about it, but if it's what I have to do-"

"You don't have to do anything!" I scream at him. "You aren't seriously going to go off and join the army, the thing I've spent my life protesting? What the fuck are you thinking?"

"Jet, I-" He reaches out a hand for me.

"No! Don't fucking touch me! Don't fucking say my name! How could you betray me like this, betray everything I stand for? I don't ever want to see you again!"

I think I see tears in his eyes as he turns and runs out of the apartment.

"He's shipping out today." Bee tells me. Weeks later, was it? Maybe months? Time had stopped flowing smoothly. "You should see him off, say goodbye."

I turn away from her. "No."

"Damnit Jet! He could die out there, and you're fucking around here like a sad little puppy that lost its bone!"

"He's dead to me already. He died when he decided to fight for this fucked up war! He betrayed us, Bee, don't you see that?"

Her eyes narrow. "No, no, I don't."

I refuse to think of him again. I forget him, except for in dreams. Until that morning. Bee's scanning the newspaper. "Shit." She mumbles. "I told you, goddamnit!" Her voice becoming a scream.

Long raises an eyebrow.

"He's dead." Bee whispers. "Zuko's dead."

"That's what traitors deserve." I say coldly. He doesn't deserve my emotion, my pity. Not anymore.

"How could you fucking say that? He was our friend! He was your boyfriend, for God's sake! He did nothing but care about you, and you treated him like a pile of shit!" She slams the paper down and storms out of the room.

"What's her problem?" I say, with a laugh.

Long looks at me. "If that's how you feel, say it to the body."

So that's how I end up at the funeral home, sneaking in after closing. There's the casket, not yet put away. My mind screams as I approach, but I ignore it. I can face this traitor and not be shaken.

But my hand is shaking as I reach for the coffin lid.

Zuko is pale. He had always been pale in life, but now he is the same color as a sheet. His face seems so unfamiliar. The short military haircut throws me off, as does the huge red scar covering half of his face. I reach out to touch it. It's a horrible burn. It doesn't feel like skin at all. And it is so cold-

He is so cold.

I drop to my knees suddenly, without thinking. "Damnit! Damn this war! I told him! It's all this fucking government's fault, it's that damn Johnson! I hate them all!" And then I am crying, fucking sobbing on the floor of some stupid funeral home.

I don't notice the old man until his hand is on my shoulder. "Hello. You must be Jet." He smiles at me kindly. "Please forgive me, I am Zuko's uncle."

Zuko's uncle… I think back.

"_Wow, Zuko, this tea's pretty good. I can't believe you're so domestic."_

_He's blushing. "Thanks. I learned it from my uncle. I'm still not as good as he is, though. He's been such a good influence in my life."_

"I think I have something for you." The old man continues. I shake myself back into reality as he presses some papers into my hands. "These were on him when he died. I haven't read them- they were addressed to you."

Surely enough, the packet says Jet on it. I don't ask how he knows who I am.

I untie the bundle slowly. A small piece of paper slips out. It's a picture. I study it. It's the two of us, smiling on the couch of the apartment. _"We have to take pictures!" he says. "So we'll remember the good times!"_

It's this picture he carried to his death. Not that one of his mother that he treasured. Not one of his uncle, or one of the four of us. Just me and him. I don't want to think about it, because it means I've been a horrible, awful person.

I start to scan the other pages. _"Dear Jet," _the first one says. _"I know I'll never probably send you this letter because you don't want to see me anymore, but I'm writing for myself. It's selfish, and kinda stupid, I know, but it makes me feel better to think that I'm talking to you even though I'm not."_

I can't read anymore because of these fucking tears.

I take a deep breath and skim through the others. He describes basic training, complains about the food, and confesses his fears. _"I was really hoping that maybe you'd change your mind and see me off, but I understand. I guess I shouldn't have expected for you to just accept it and be okay. You have your reasons, and I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. I hope that someday I'll be able to apologize to you."_

"How could he?" I growl. The old man looks at me. "How could he think that he was being the selfish one for wanting understanding? How could he blame himself for my problems? How could I let him think it was all his fault?" I bury my face in my hands. "Damnit, I am so sorry. I wish I could have made it up to you."

"Then why are you still here?"

"Huh?"

The old man looks at me. "What good are you doing anyone by apologizing to a dead body? How can you really show Zuko that you are sorry and that you want to do better?" He pauses, but I don't know what to say. "Get up, and get going. Change your life. Make the world a better place. Become the man that Zuko believed that you were. Live, because he cannot."

I blink and shake my head. "You're right." I mumble. I reach over and brush Zuko's cheek, memorizing his face. "You're right." I say with more confidence. I clutch the papers and turn. "Thank you."

The old man smiles kindly and sadly. "Go and live."

I nod and run out the door and don't look back.

_I haven't always been as understanding as I am today. I had to go through a lot of shit to realize what's really important. I've learned that nothing is ever certain, and I've learned that there are no second chances. But I'm a better person for it. And I think I can finally say that I've become the man that Zuko believed I could be._


End file.
